


Reminders

by lightyears



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-04 00:14:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5312405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightyears/pseuds/lightyears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So, I think your brother’s been low-key stalking me,” Clarke told Octavia the next day.<br/>Octavia snorted. “Sounds like him.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reminders

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly don't know what this is.  
> It was supposed to be like 5k words max.  
> A whole lot of fluff and a smidgen (3k words?) of smut at the end. Whoops?  
> Enjoy!

There are three things that happened in Clarke’s sophomore year of high school that have brought her to where she is today.

Where she is today is in a trench coat, lacy lingerie and heels, about to one, ruin her friendship with Bellamy Blake; or two, have sex with Bellamy Blake. She’s not sure there’s an in between in this situation.

The first is that for her sixteenth birthday, her mum decided to get her a new iPhone. Now, Clarke’s not going to be a brat and bitch about the fact that her mum got her a new phone, because - yeah, it was a really nice phone, and a pretty cool present. It had much more storage than her old one, which meant that she didn’t have to keep her music on the separate iTouch she owned. Plus, it meant that she got a new charger, which was awesome because she was at the stage where she had to move the cord around for a good two minutes before it actually worked. Sure, she could afford a new one, but it was the principle of the whole thing - a charger should definitely last more than a year. (Clarke can be very stubborn when she wants to.) So, yeah, new phone pretty much equals good, but still, it was kind of unnecessary, as nice as it was. She didn’t exactly _need_ a new phone, and she felt guilty that it was something her mum could afford, when her two best friends, Raven and Octavia, didn’t have that luxury. Guilt aside, she transferred everything onto it, leaving an old phone she gave to Raven, and an iTouch that she left in her bedside table. 

The second is that Mrs. Walker, one of her high school’s administration workers, had taken over locker organisation at the beginning of the year, which meant that seniors now had theirs in the east building of Ark High. Most of Clarke’s classes were there, as was her locker and the library, so she saw quite a bit of Bellamy Blake - senior; older brother of best friend; incredibly gorgeous and wanted by many - in the halls during the year. 

They were friends, as you generally are with anyone you’ve known for over ten years, even if they bickered constantly. “You act like an old married couple,” Octavia would tell them with an eye roll whenever they got started on another one of their tangents. And not that she’d ever admit it out loud but _yeah_ , she had the tiniest little crush on him. Because he was gorgeous and nice and loved O more than anything, and even though they argued constantly, it was safely on the teasing side of things. It didn’t matter anyway, because she was sure that he only saw her as a little sister, and it’s not like she’d ever have the guts to make a move. So she’d just silently pine for him; she’d mope when she went to visit O and he’d be getting ready for a date, or when he would stumble into the house later, with dishevelled hair and lipstick on his jaw; and she’d feel giddy whenever he decided to stay in for the night - sitting close and sharing popcorn - as he, O and she watched a movie together. 

It was enough just being friends with him, as well. Because even through all the random hook ups and the flock of older girls flirting with him, he was always nicest to her. Other than O and his mum, she was definitely the most constant girl in his life. She was, well - she was kind of his girl. She tried really hard not to hope that his affection would change from brotherly to something a little less innocent, but it was difficult when he called her princess or kissed her on the forehead whenever she was feeling down. Clarke was fairly certain her feelings would go away with time - definitely when he left for college - so she resigned herself to the fact that she’d just have to deal with them until then. 

The third is that sometime during April her calculus teacher was sick, so when she went to her usual classroom, a note on the door directed her to _go to the library for private study_. She sighed at the time, muttering _selfish_ under her breath, annoyed that her teacher was away when she really needed help before the test next week. But she turned on her heels, anyway, and walked back the way she came from. And that’s when this all really came to a head.

Because Bellamy, talking to Miller and Murphy at their lockers, was in the direct route to the library.

“Anyway, now my iPod’s broken,” he grumbled, prompting sympathetic nods and a clap on the back from the two boys. 

“That sucks, man,” Miller so eloquently told his best friend.

“I know,” Bellamy sighed, looking like the world was really kicking his ass today.

“Oi, Bell,” Clarke said, a little louder than totally necessary, as she approached. He rolled his eyes, as he always did when she used _oi_ to gain his attention, but a fond smile pulled on his lips regardless. It did not make her heart speed up. It did not, it did not, it did not. (It did.) 

“What is it now, princess?” He drawled, nodding goodbye to Murphy and Miller as they headed off to class. (Clarke expertly ignored the matching smirks they wore as they acknowledged her.)

“Do you need a new iPod?” She asked once she’d reached him, Bellamy pulling the last few things from his locker.

“I don’t _need_ one,” he told her with a slam of his locker door, an easy tell that he was in a grumpy mood.

“God, you’re so annoying,” she replied before a long-winded sigh. “I have an old iTouch that I don’t use if you want it.”

He eyed her suspiciously, like he expected her to yell _psych_ if he accepted the offer, which was ridiculous because she wouldn’t lie about this and he should know that.

“I don’t want your charity, Clarke,” he said, a little chipped, the use of her name indicating that he was serious.

She rolled her eyes, as she often did whenever Bellamy got into these moods. “It’s not charity, Bell. If I went out, bought a new one and tried to give it to you, sure, that might be charity. But it’s a three year old iTouch that’s been sitting in my drawer for the past five months. I don’t use it, and you’re obviously going to be even more insufferable than you normally are if you don’t have something to listen to music on.”

He huffed indignantly, but didn’t deny her prediction. 

“Really,” she said, softer, and grabbed his hand to squeeze it, “It’s not charity, Bell. And it’s not a problem. You’ll be doing me a favour,” she added when he still didn’t relent.

“You’re going to have to ask me for something in return,” he told her eventually, petulant. 

Clarke sighed. “Where are you heading?”

“Library. Free period.” She already knew that.

“Cool, so am I. My teacher’s away,” she told him before he mock gasped at her for skipping class. “You can give me a piggy back ride to the library. That’s the price.”

He gaped a little, prompting her to grin. He was very adorable, really. “That’s down two flights of stairs, Clarke. And not even a real payment.” Clarke shrugged, waiting for the inevitably groaned “ _Fine._ ”

“Good,” she grinned, passing over her books.

He shook his head, but smiled anyway, crouching a little so she could jump onto his back.

“This isn’t going to end well,” he told her as he handed the books back - giving Clarke a barrier between her hands and his apparently very firm chest - so he could hoist his hands under her legs.

“I believe in you, Bell,” she replied, patting his head the best she could from her position.

She’s not going to lie, it was really fun having a piggy back ride from Bellamy - although it took about ten minutes instead of the usual two - and it was even more fun when she saw groups of senior girls half glaring at her for stealing his attention (and affection). Even though she knew the truth - they were very platonic, much to her despair - she’d let them think what they wanted. (Clarke was very mature that way.) Once they reached the library, she smacked a kiss on his cheek, sealing the deal - all _very_ official - before they spent the period teasing each other and studying together.

And hence, three things that happened in Clarke’s sophomore year of high school later, Bellamy Blake had her old iTouch.

**

Clarke didn’t start using _Reminders_ until college. She mostly organised her life in her planner - colour coordinated and all very _neat_ \- but sometimes she’d forget to do something on time - like pick up that dress from the dry cleaners on the way to her dorm, which lead her to buying a whole new dress for the weekend because by the time she looked in her diary and saw the little _*Gala - dress_ note, it was closed - and she wished she had something _notifying_ her not to forget these little things. 

“We live in the 21st century, Clarke. Hearing you say this is physically causing me pain,” Raven had told her. “There are about a million apps that will do that for you.”

Clarke sighed, but agreed that her complaints were kind of ridiculous, so she started using _Reminders_ on her Mac and her iPhone - very happy that it all synced up - and yeah, while she tended to prefer having a physical planner that she could organise to her heart’s desire, it did come in handy.

“Told you,” Raven said as she had punched Clarke on the shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah.” 

**

It started happening during the final term of her sophomore year.  She didn’t notice it at the beginning - because honestly, why would it ever cross her mind? - but looking back, it seems blatantly clear.

(She’s going to tease Bellamy about it forever, to be honest.)

**

_Email mum._

Clarke sighed at the little notification that popped up in the top right corner of her laptop. She didn’t have a _bad_ relationship with her mother, per se, but it certainly wasn’t good - the fact that emailing was their main form of communication kind of tells you what you need to know. It was just very…tense.

She stared the little box down for a few moments, finally relenting and opening up her email - forgoing hitting the snooze button that she wanted to - and reminded herself that communicating with the only family she had left was important.

_I’m such a brat_ , she thought as she replied to the email her mother sent her over a week ago, telling her how classes and work was. She ignored the _Are you seeing anyone new, honey?_ because, yeah - she was _not_ going to get into that with her mother. _Nah, still secretly pining over my best friend’s brother. Sort of takes the romance out of dating someone else._  

“Have you spoken to you mum recently?” Bellamy asked the next day. It was Friday night, so she found herself at his apartment, waiting for the inevitable flow of people to take up space and demand food. 

“Yeah,” she replied, happy that she didn’t have to feel guilty for once. Good timing, she supposed. “Emailed her yesterday to let her know how I was.”

“That’s good,” he replied, continuing the foot massage that was definitely not helping her with the whole _not falling for him any further_ thing.

And that was that.

Totally normal exchange. Definitely no reason for Clarke to be suspicious. 

But it started happening more. She didn’t think about it at the time, because why would she? It was just in hindsight that all the little things clicked into place.

**

_Meet Professor Wallace._

“Oh shit,” Clarke shut her laptop quickly, thanking the heavens that she actually set herself this reminder.

“Everything okay?” Harper asked from the her bed on the opposite side of their dorm room.

As dorm roommates go, she was actually the best. Clarke hadn’t been sexiled once (and she knew both Raven and O experienced it constantly), her food never mysteriously disappeared, and coffee was brought to her when she was going through intense study periods.

“Yeah,” she replied, gathering her things into a bag. “I just forgot that I had a meeting with Professor Wallace. Normally I talk to him after class on Thursdays, but he’s got something on and I have to talk about an assignment due Friday.”

“Alright,” Harper replied with a smile. “You here tonight?”

“Um, not until later. Having dinner at Bell’s.”

Harper smiled knowingly. “Okay,” she said, tone innocent enough. “Have fu-un,” and there was the suggestive one she was used to.

“Not my boyfriend,” Clarke reminded her for the millionth time, already halfway out the door.

She only heard laughter in response, and as she made her way down the hall she couldn’t quite keep the smile off her face. 

“How was the meeting with Professor Wallace?” Bellamy asked later in the evening. 

She was curled up onto his couch, takeout in hand and waiting for Bellamy to finally sit down so they could start their night of binge watching Netflix. Tuesdays were honestly becoming her favourite night. 

“What?” She asked around a mouthful of Pad See Ew, looking up as he made his way to the couch with two beers in hand. “How’d you know I had a meeting with him?”

His eyes widened for a second as he stopped in his tracks, but the alarmed expression was gone before she could properly register it. 

“You mentioned it to me the other day,” he responded easily, handing her a bottle. “Don’t tell O I’m supplying you with alcohol.”

Clarke grinned, miming _my lips are sealed_ as he sat next to her, his arm immediately making its way to the back of the couch, framing her. 

“I don’t remember mentioning it,” she frowned, taking a sip of the beer before settling on the arm of the couch.

“Yeah, uh, you were telling me you had to ask him something,” he responded, voice sounding a little strained and the statement coming out more like a question.

“Oh,” she shrugged. “I guess I’ve been a bit of a scatter brain lately.”

He relaxed around her, and she snuggled closer into his side. She told him how the meeting went and he told her how the last year of his degree was panning out.

They put on _Daredevil_ and spent the evening chatting and snuggling, and Clarke soon forgot that she was so sure she never mentioned any sort of meeting to him. How could she think about that when she felt his chest rise and fall with each breath? It was very distracting.

**

_Order dad flowers._

Clarke swallowed when the little notification interrupted the long text she was typing out to Raven (who was so stubbornly not taking her advice to just _accept Wick’s date_ ), heart feeling suddenly heavy in her chest.

It had been years since he died, but it was always hard when his anniversary came. And it was five this year, which seemed somehow more significant. 

She released a shaky breath and opened up the familiar website that she ordered her particular _dad_ _bouquet_ from. (She learned long ago that going to a florist was a bad idea. The first time she ended up crying to a very alarmed looking employee, and the second time she wanted to to throw a vase at a man who told her _sorry sweety, we don’t have what you’re looking for._ Like, what kind of florist doesn’t have a ready supply of white tulips?) 

She ordered the flowers, relieved that she could have them delivered by Thursday, before trudging out of her dorm with only her wallet and her phone.

She didn’t know where she was going until she was there, and wasn’t surprised when Bellamy took one look at her before pulling her into a hug. 

“Is it your dad?” He asked after she'd stopped crying.  They were sitting on his bed - Miller had friends over for once - as Bellamy rubbed circles on her back while she sniffled into his shirt.

She nodded, hearing him sigh a little before looking up to him. She was sure her make up was a mess (she really should invest in some water proof mascara), and she was only in a ratty top (that she was pretty sure once belonged to him), leggings and ugg boots. She was a mess, really, but she didn’t care, because it was _Bellamy_. He’d never judge her, and she was pretty certain that she loved him with the realisation.

“How do you always know what’s going on in my head?” She asked shakily.

He smiled sadly at her, moving his thumbs under her eyes to clear some of the tears before kissing her forehead.

“Because I’m the best.”

She laughed, the sound watery and at odds with the heavy heart she still felt.

She nodded again, mumbling a “You are,” into his chest, while he continued to rub her back.

She fell asleep sometime after that, feeling as safe as she ever had as he held her close, and woke up the next morning to the smell of pancakes. 

It made her tear up all over again, because she really didn’t deserve someone like Bellamy at all, but he didn’t say anything; just held her close and let her cry some more. 

**

_Book for Bell._

“Oh yeah,” Clarke stopped writing her essay and grabbed the wallet from her bag. Bellamy had asked her to borrow a book that wasn’t available at his library but was from hers, and of course she had agreed. 

She looked to him - sitting across from her at the library - and saw him wearing a fantastically goofy grin.

“What?” She asked, feeling a smile grow on her own face.

“Nothing.” But he continued to smile (although it seemed like he was trying to hone it in a bit). 

“Okay,” she narrowed her eyes, “I’m gonna grab that book for you.”

“I’ll help,” he stood up from his seat, stretching to reveal a sliver of tan skin from where his top rose. (She tried not to stare. She stared anyway.)

She tapped O’s shoulder to let her know they were leaving for a few minutes, and made her way to a computer to look the book up.

Once it was found and borrowed, Bellamy flashed a relieved smile and sighed “Thanks so much, princess,” sounding incredibly sincere. 

She spent the rest of her time at the library trying to hide the grin that kept creeping onto her face and concentrate on the essay she had to write.

It didn’t go too well.

**

_O application._

“O,” she called out to her best friend as she was riffling through her brother’s kitchen for snacks.

“Yeah?”

“I’ll help you with that grant now if you want?”

“Oh yeah, that’d be great.”

Octavia walked back to the table, a bag of chips and jelly snakes in hand, and sat next to Clarke. She could ask Bellamy for help - of course she could, he was her brother and would do anything for her - but she’d told Clarke that she felt like she was bothering him too much during his final year, so Clarke offered her own help.

They worked through the different applications over the next two hours, and after triple checking that they’d attached all the necessary documents, submitted it to the college website.

“Done,” Clarke said, receiving a very sincere _thank you_ for her efforts.

Bellamy came home from work only a little later - O had left by then - and immediately wrapped her into a hug.

She was surprised and a little confused, but hugged him back all the same (like she would ever say no to Bellamy cuddles).

“What was that for?” She asked once he pulled away (a good thirty seconds later).

“Nothing,” he shook his head. “Just-” he sighed, looking down at her with so much affection it made her want to say _fuck it_ and kiss him. “You’re my best friend, you know that?” She gaped a little, which was an indication that _no, she did not know that._ “I know that you’re technically O’s friend, but - you’re my best friend as well.”

He wrapped her in another hug, a little tighter this time, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

“You’re my best friend too, Bell.” 

**

_Dry cleaners._

“Hah,” she said out loud, ignoring students’ glares at the sudden noise in the otherwise silent library. But _hah!,_ because this time she’d remember to pick up her dress for the gala she had this weekend. It was a charity event - something to do with her mum’s hospital, she’s not sure - that had a non-negotiable attendance policy (only to her). She didn’t want to go, not really, but at least this time she wouldn’t have to go last minute dress shopping.

She picked the dress up on the way to Bellamy’s that night - because it was a Tuesday and that’s just what she did - and was greeted by the smell of Indian, which, honestly, was just what she felt like.

“Dress for the gala?” Bellamy asked once she propped herself onto the kitchen bench, chairs be damned. 

“Mmm,” she hummed, resting the garment bag next to her.

“Dry cleaned?”

“Yep,” she popped the ‘p’. “How’d you know?”

He shrugged, stirring the pot on the stove before turning to face her. “I’m just smart that way.” She narrowed her eyes at him and he huffed a laugh. “Or I just remember that the last time you came home in that thing you got the filling of a jam donut all over it.”

“Ahhhhh yes, I remember,” she eyed the bag, annoyed at the dress it held for something that _totally_ wasn't her own fault. “The first time you saw my boobs.”

He blushed, which, yeah - it’s what she was going for. 

“It’s not my fault I didn’t realise you weren’t wearing a bra,” he grumbled.

“Who practically rips a dress off someone without thinking that it would result in at least partial nudity?”

“I didn’t want it to stain!” He tried to defend himself, and Clarke couldn’t do much more than grin fondly at him.

“Idiot.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he rolled his eyes. “You gonna show me or what?” She narrowed her eyes and he continued. “You know, so I know that it isn’t stained anymore.”

“Fine,” she relented, sticking her tongue out at him as she walked to his bedroom.

It was a nice dress, really. The dark navy complemented her skin well, the little sleeves that sat at the very edge of her shoulders showed off her chest nicely (yet subtly), and it fit her snug in all the right places. But she had no make up on and her hair was greasy, in a messy bun on the top of her head, so the effect was kind of lost.

Still, when she went back into the kitchen and cleared her throat, Bellamy stared at her for a good ten seconds, words seeming to escape him. 

“Well?” She prompted, feeling more than a little self-conscious.

He cleared his throat, shook his head and looked at her with something like awe.

“Good,” he replied, voice a little rough. “You clean up nice, Griffin.”

She rolled her eyes, ducked her head to hide a smile and mumbled a thanks before leaving the room to change.

**

_Tampons and advil._

Clarke grumbled as she walked out of the lecture theatre, glaring at her phone. She really didn’t want to stop on the way to her dorm - her cramps were really getting to her and all she wanted to do was lie down with a hot water bottle and watch something trashy - but it was a necessary evil. 

_Thanks uterus,_ she thought, narrowing her eyes down at her abdomen in anger. 

Still, it was only fifteen minutes later that she was able to crash on her bed and her aforementioned plan fell into place. (Honestly it was even better, because her headache and cramps weren’t so severe with the advil and the chocolate she bought was good for her general junk food cravings.)

Two days later she found herself back at Bellamy’s place - a movie night in the works - with another headache coming on. Her cramps had died down a little, but she was still feeling PMSy (and very sorry for herself).

“Bell,” she called from the couch, her voice whiny and very pathetic.

“What?” He responded from the kitchen. 

“Do you have any advil?”

“Uh, yeah. There should be some in the bathroom under the sink.”

She removed herself from the couch with a pout and padded her way into the bathroom.

There was advil. In a plastic bag along with pads and tampons. Clarke frowned, because those aren't generally things you find in an apartment shared by two men. 

And there was a receipt. Marked two days ago.

She took the bag into the kitchen and held it up to Bellamy.

“Something to tell me?” She asked with a smirk.

“Oh,” he blinked, a flush creeping up his cheeks. “I, uh, keep some around for O.”

Clarke smiled, because, yeah - that was really sweet. She was worried he started seeing someone without telling her. That would've been awkward.

“You’re such a good brother,” she told him before swallowing a tablet with some water and putting the bag back in the bathroom.

He walked over to the couch a half hour later, offering a bowl of spaghetti bolognaise - which was her comfort food, _especially_ when she had her period - and settled in next to her.

“Thanks, Bell.”

“You’re welcome, princess,” he kissed her on the forehead. 

**

_Order O present._

“Fuck,” Bellamy swore loudly, causing Clarke to look up from her phone.

“What?” She asked, watching him eye her old iTouch that he still used.

“Uh, nothing.”

“Okay,” she said, continuing to play _Candy Crush_ on her phone. (She was always about three years late with game fads, but whatever.)

Clarke sighed after ten minutes, putting her phone away to open her laptop to the _Society6_ website. She found the phone case she knew O would love - she saw it a few weeks ago but was waiting for her next pay check to come in to buy it - and ordered it along with two pillow cases that were cute. 

“What are you getting O for her birthday?” Bellamy asked only twenty minutes later.

“That’s so weird, I literally just bought her present,” she laughed, prompting a nervous one from him. “Um,” she went back onto the website, ignoring his general weirdness and showed him her present. “I got her the phone case and this pillow. This ones for me,” she told him.

He nodded. “Homeware, always a good option.”

“I know,” she responded primly. “O loves that shit. What about you?”

He sighed, carding a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I kind of forgot her birthday was next week,” he told her sheepishly. “I’ve just been so busy with uni and work that it slipped my mind.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” she slid her hand over to his and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll help you look for something,” she moved over to his side of the small dining table with her laptop.

He smiled gratefully. “Thanks, princess.”

“Anytime.”

She missed the way he swallowed and shook his head as he watched her open several websites on her laptop. She missed the way he smiled, how his eyes flicked down to her lips for a brief second before he pressed a kiss to her hair.

**

It wasn’t until she lost her phone somewhere in her room that something clicked. 

“Just use _find my iPhone,_ ” Raven told her, annoyed that she was once again being asked to move from her seat.

“Uh, you’re a genius, Rave,” Clarke smacked a kiss on Raven’s cheek before going to the website.

After signing in, she saw the three devices. _Clarke’s MacBook Air, Clarke’s iPhone_ and _Clarke’s iTouch,_ and quickly found her phone (it was hiding under the blankets she searched twice before). 

Now, Clarke knew that Bellamy hadn’t wiped her old iTouch before using it, but it wasn’t until now that she really understood what that meant. Narrowing her eyes at the little pin point dropped at his apartment, she opened up the settings for her devices. 

She found that _Reminders, Calendar_ and _Contacts_ synced between all three of them, and with that, a thought popped into her head.

“So, I think your brother’s been low-key stalking me,” Clarke told Octavia the next day. They were hanging out in her dorm, which had pretty much been cleared out with the end of the academic year. 

Octavia snorted. “Sounds like him.” She propped herself onto her side, resting her head on her hand to pay attention to the following explanation. “Why do you think that?”

“Okay, it’s going to sound really weird but just hear me out.” 

Octavia gestured for her to continue, so she started laying out her evidence. 

“And then yesterday, I saw that my reminders sync to the iTouch I gave him in high school. Like, I _swear_ I didn’t tell him about my meeting with Professor Wallace. _And_ he bought tampons and stuff the _day_ I got the reminder to buy some.”

“So you think he’s just been reading all the reminders you leave yourself and then…asking about them and stuff?”

“Yeah, well - I don’t know. It seems like too much of a coincidence. Do you think it is?”

“Probably not,” Octavia mused. “I wouldn’t put it past him to show his affection by low-key stalking you.”

“And that’s the thing,” Clarke interrupted. “He’s only like, being nice to me through it?”

Octavia mumbled _idiot_ under her breath before sighing.  “Bell is so dumb. And so are you.”

Clarke gaped. “How am _I_ the dumb one?”

“Oh, jeez, you two are impossible. You’re still like, in love with my brother, right?”

Well, that’s just - Clarke had never _told_ O about her thing for (being in love with) Bellamy, but she’s not surprised Octavia knew anyway.

“Yeah,” she replied, not bothering the denial she would’ve stuttered out a few months ago.

“Okay, well, I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but this is just getting painful to watch. Bellamy is totally head over heals for you.”

“What?” Clarke gaped.

Octavia rolled her eyes, mumbling another _idiot_ under her breath. “I don’t know how you haven’t seen it. All he does is make moon eyes at you.”

“That’s not true.”

“And I think this,” O ignored her, gesturing to nothing in particular, “is just his super dumb way to show you he cares.”

“Okay,” Clarke eventually said. “If that’s true your brother is an idiot.”

“Are you surprised by that?”

“No.”

“What’re you going to do?”

“Well, I’ll try to confirm it, and then I’ll confront him.”

“Good. Just remember condoms for when you do.”

Clarke threw a pillow at her best friend, but made a note to do just that (but not a reminder).

**

_Order vibrator and handcuffs._

The notification went off just as Clarke had planned, and it was an added bonus that Bellamy just so happened to be taking a sip of his drink as he looked down at his iTouch. 

He choked, pulling the bottle away from his mouth and started sputtering.

“You alright?” Clarke asked from the kitchen, watching Bellamy on the couch as she pretended to be gathering snacks, a large grin on her face with her suspicions pretty much confirmed.

“Fine,” he rasped out after about a minute of coughing. 

“Okay,” she replied, bringing over some popcorn and chocolate she found before sitting next to him. 

When she looked to him, his eyes were glued to the TV, however she saw how they were hooded and dark. 

She grinned and shoved a handful of popcorn into her mouth. Cool.

**

_I’m about 99% sure he’s low-key stalking me._

_I'm trying to be surprised with this revelation, but  
I'm just not. What’re you going to do?_

_Plan is in the works. It’s very ballsy, but I’m just  
going to go for it._

_Proud of you, babe._

**

_Bellamy surprise party_.

Clarke didn’t 'complete' the reminder for a few hours, trying to increase the chances that Bellamy would see it. The guilty face he wore when she saw him the next day pretty much confirmed it.

It was his birthday the following week, and hence the perfect time for her to set this plan into action. 

She knew that he’d be out the day before he turned twenty three - he always bought a book as a self-present like the nerd that he is - and with the help of Octavia and Miller, she knew exactly when he'd left his apartment.

And that brings her to the present.

Standing in his apartment is in a trench coat, lacy lingerie and heels, about to one, ruin her friendship with Bellamy Blake; or two, have sex with Bellamy Blake.

_Call bell surprise party._

She only waits ten minutes before finding his contact and pressing the little phone button, the butterflies in her stomach seeming to become more crazed with every passing second.

“ _Princess?_ ” He answers, the tone of his voice making Clarke pretty sure he got the notification.

“Hey Bell, I need to ask you a really big favour.”

“ _What is it?_ ”

“I have this luncheon thing today, and mum keeps trying set me up, so would you pretty please be my date? I'm at your place.”

“ _Uh, sure,_ ” he responds, a little hesitant. “ _I’ll be home in fifteen._ ”

“You’re the best. Thank you so much.”

“ _No worries_ _, princess._ ”

Clarke breathes out after hanging up, walking back to the bathroom for the fifth time to check her appearance. 

It’s a bold move, she knows that. But she needs to stop letting the things she wants pass her by. And what she wants is Bellamy.

Obviously she’s not just going to strip for him without a confirmation of his feelings. The outfit is just something…nice. Something fun. It is his birthday after all. 

He steps into his apartment soon enough, and Clarke watches him from the kitchen as he warily searches the apartment.

“Hey Bell,” she calls to him.

“Hey, uh, princess,” he replies, walking very slowly towards her. “How are you?” He continues to look around, obviously waiting for people to jump out and yell _surprise._  (Clarke tries really hard not to confess, but he deserves this, really.)

“You okay? You’re acting really weird.”

“Yeah, um, yeah-” He shakes his head before turning properly to her. He seems to register her appearance for the first time, his eyes going wide and his mouth a little slack. She looks good, she knows it. She can’t wait for him to see what she’s got under her coat. “You look nice.”

“Thanks,” she smiles. “Have to impress all of mum’s friends, right?”

“Oh, yeah…Right.” He rakes a hand through his hair, looking incredibly confused and incredibly adorable.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, why?” He asks absently, leaning against the back of the couch to face her.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she muses. “Maybe because you thought that you were walking into a surprise party because you’ve been stalking me a little, and instead of the group of people you were expecting to jump out at you, you just got me telling you that I set you up instead?”

He gapes for approximately ten seconds before trying to stutter out an excuse. He stops when he notices her growing smile.

“You’re not angry?” He eventually gets out.

“I mean, yeah - it’s a little weird and I’m not really sure what you were trying to achieve.” He blushes, looking incredibly sheepish. “But I’m not angry. It’s hilarious, honestly.” 

He rakes his hand through his hair, standing up taller. She moves so she's standing a few feet away from him.

“So there is no luncheon?”

“No.”

“And no surprise party?”

“No.”

“And you’re not angry at me?”

“No,” she smiles. 

“Okay. Look I wasn’t try to stalk you or anything - stop laughing. I just found the reminders you set yourself funny and - Clarke, I’m serious, stop laughing at me!”

“I’m sorry,” she replies between giggles. “This is just the silliest thing that I've ever heard.”

He huffs, crossing his arms and Clarke feels a little guilty. Only a little.

“If there’s no luncheon then why are you so dressed up?”

The question sobers her up, and she stops laughing. “For you,” she says eventually, softly, like it’s a secret she’s letting him in on. It is, honestly.

“What?” He asks hesitantly, but Clarke notices how he straightens, how his face looks hopeful.

She takes a few steps forward, pushes him back to lean on the couch, and stands between his legs.

“Clarke-”

“So I was thinking that maybe you did this ‘cause you like me.” She watches her hand as her fingers card through his dark locks. They’re soft, like she knew they would be, and she’d love do this more often. She doesn’t miss his small intake of breath, and a small smile tugs at her lips at the sound.

“Of course I like you, princess.” His voice is rough, and Clarke has to suppress a shiver as the words seem to vibrate against her.

She looks him straight in the eyes, knowing that what she’s about to do is the ballsiest thing she’s ever done. But she’s not scared - she’s almost peaceful, actually - because he’s looking at her with so much love in his eyes that she’s wondering how she never noticed it before.

“Okay then,” she says quietly, moving her hands to his shoulders. “I was thinking that maybe you did this because you love me.” He swallows, blinks a few times and looks so incredibly hopeful that Clarke can’t help but add “Because I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”

It’s not even a second later that his smile splits his face and he’s wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her into his chest.

“You love me?” He asks, and she can hear the smile in his voice.

“Yeah, I do.”

He loosens his grip and lets her lean back so she can see his face when he says “I love you, too.”

She grins, biting her bottom lip because _now_ she’s suddenly nervous, which is ridiculous because _he loves her._  

“Okay cool. I’m gonna kiss you now, okay?”

He doesn’t respond, just pulls her back into him and leans up to capture her lips.

His are warm against hers, moving slowly as one of his hands slide from her waist up to her head, tilting it so he can deepen the kiss. His tongue sweeps across her lips and she sighs into his mouth when she feels it against her own, feels how they move together so easily already. Her hands creep up from his chest to his neck, pulling him closer so she’s flush against his chest, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

It’s a slow kiss, experimental as they explore each others mouths, and Clarke only breaks away because she starts laughing again at the absurdity of the situation.

She looks back to him, worrying her lip and feeling shy but happy, and her heart stutters when she finds him grinning back at her.

Her hands move back down his chest and find his, still on her waist, so she can tangle their fingers together. 

“You done?” He asks when she finally stops giggling like a fifth grader.

She nods, but doesn’t lean in again, instead stepping back and pulling him off the back of the couch.

“I have a birthday present for you,” she tells him as she leads him away from the lounge room. “But it’s in your bedroom.”

He chuckles, grip tightening on her hand, and follows her until she pushes him to sit at the end of his bed. She closes his door before walking back to him, revelling in the hungry yet curious gaze that follows her. 

“What’s the present?” He smirks.

She parts his legs with one of her own and steps between them once they’ve widened. 

“I am,” she responds, hand at the belt of her coat. His eyes go from laughing to hooded in no time at all, darkening at her words and looking at her with so much lust that she wants to just take him already, to forget all about the game she’s set out to play.

His hands go to her belt and - once Clarke nods for him to continue - he unties it slowly, standing up to turn them around and undo the buttons to her coat. 

The back of her legs are against his bed, and he slowly removes the coat from her shoulders, letting it slip down her arms and pool at the bottom of the bed. She’s wearing matching black underwear - both bra and panties in lace that leaves little to the imagination - and sheer black stockings that finish halfway up her thigh. She looks damn good, if his expression is anything to go on. 

“Fuck, Clarke,” he groans, eyes taking in her body hungrily.

And suddenly it seems like too much for him, because he grabs her by the arms and pulls her in for a searing kiss.

And this one is the complete opposite of the first; it’s fast and heated, and she only waits a second before her tongue slips into his mouth, lips moving at a hungry pace against his. His hands move down her arms to cup her ass, squeezing them before he pulls her hips to his. She can feel his growing erection and the thought that she’s the one doing this to him only makes her lust from him grow. She bites his bottom lip hungrily, the sound of his responding groan sending bursts of arousal through her body, making their way to the growing wetness at her cunt. 

She pulls an arm around his shoulders for support, using the other the remove both her heels and throw them to the side of the room - they may be sexy, but they’re kind of annoying - and he growls into her mouth when she brings her hand back up to palm his covered cock.

He breaks the kiss, mouth moving to her neck immediately, nipping and licking in a way that makes Clarke’s eyes flutter as she tries to remove his belt. She eventually does, and Bellamy breaks away to pull off his top as she shucks his jeans down, getting him to about the same level as nakedness as her.

“Keep the stockings on,” he growls, pushing her back onto the bed gently.

She smirks as she shuffles back, watching in anticipation as he stalks towards her on hands and knees, as he crowds above her, his broad chest hovering so closely to hers.

“Whatever you want, birthday boy,” she breathes, before surging up to capture his lips again, happy to hear his grunt of surprise.

She wraps her legs around his waist, enjoying the feel of the silky fabric of her stockings against both her skin and his, and lifts her hips from the bed to grind on him.  He groans, and when she feels his cock twitch against her pussy, she does too.  He pushes her hips back to the bed almost roughly, and she breaks the kiss with a moan, the need for air suddenly becoming too much. He smirks from above her, and she has just enough energy to roll her eyes, but then he lowers his head to her breasts and she really can’t be annoyed any more.

He tugs at her nipple, the feeling of his teeth through the fabric feeling so delicious and dirty all at once, before laving it with his tongue. One of his hands plays with her other breast, thumb circling her nipple until she feels it harden, while the other moves down to her lace panties. 

She sucks in a breath when his finger slip under them without any teasing, her legs going a little slack around his waist as her eyes flutter shut. He hisses against her breast, moving forward until she can feel him hovering above her. 

“You’re wet,” his says, voice incredibly smug.

“Nice observation, idiot,” she breathes out, smiling when she hears him chuckle.

He places a sweet kiss between her breasts, his fingers moving up her folds and to her clit before moving back down again to repeat the process.

“Clarke,” he says, and she opens her eyes to see him looking down at her hungrily. He leans forward, his mouth open and moving against her cheek before it reaches her ear. “I really want to fuck you with my fingers in these little panties. I really want to taste you through them.” 

Clarke swallows, her breath hitching just with the words. She didn’t really know she was into dirty talk, but with Bellamy - the sound of his voice deep and rough - the words make her flush with a new wave of arousal. 

“Can I do that?”

She nods before he even finishes asking, not trusting her voice to speak, and he bites her ear teasingly before removing his fingers from her underwear. She drops her legs from around him, and he crawls down her body, lips and hands caressing her so softly and lovingly, completely at odds with the words he just spoke to her. 

He pushes her legs up so her feet are planted next to her, nudging her thighs apart with his shoulders, before pulling one over his shoulder. She moves her foot slowly down his back, the fabric sliding silkily across it, revelling in the small shiver it elicits from him.

He moves the fabric of her panties to the side, two fingers sliding up and down her folds once before they move into her cunt. She clenches at the sudden pressure, but relaxes quickly when he drops a chaste kiss to her navel. His fingers begin to move slowly, and she should’ve known he’d be as good with his hands as he is. She shuffles impatiently, pushing his back forward with the foot still caressing it, and he chuckles softly before increasing his ministrations.

She watches as he moves further down her body, so his head is at the level of her pussy, and uses his other hand to dip into her underwear and part her folds. He huffs a breath onto her, the sudden heat to her centre making her shiver, before lowering his head to her clit. He finds it through the lace, his tongue swiping across it once, twice, three times to make Clarke arch her back slightly, before his mouth descends on it fully. He starts sucking in earnest, Clarke’s breaths coming more quickly with his efforts as she moves her hands to fondle her own breasts. Heat pools in her, the coil at her centre tightening with every second he continues working her with his hands and his mouth.

When he groans, she looks down to find him watching her play with herself, and she bites her bottom lip seductively before one of her hands travels down to grip his hair. 

He continues his work, his fingers beginning to curl with each pump in and out until he just moves them back and forth, back and forth, hitting the spot that takes her closer to the edge every time.

“Bell,” she whimpers, gripping his hair tightly when she feels teeth teasing her clit. Her breathing quickens and she’s so close it isn’t funny. 

“Come on, princess,” he says against her, moving the hand parting her to her clit and rubbing tight circles. 

She comes hard, the coil in her finally snapping with the almost unbearable pressure on her clit. Her back arches and she knows that it’s his name falling from her lips in moans, almost like a prayer, even though she can’t hear it. He works her through it, his fingers still pumping back and forth and his thumb still rubbing circles. 

When she comes to it, he’s pressing kisses to the insides of her thighs and removing his hands from her underwear. She watches as his fingers come to his mouth, as he sucks all her arousal off them, as his eyes close to savour to taste; to savour her. 

She reaches for him in a rush, gripping his shoulder to pull him forward and moans at the taste of herself on his lips. It’s hot and wet and _god,_ she wishes this could’ve happened sooner but she’s still so ecstatic that it’s happening at all. 

When they break away, he rests his forehead against hers as one of his hands strokes her side.

“That was nice,” she breathes, feeling the smile on his lips as he presses them quickly to hers.

He pulls back, balancing himself above her so she can see his unabashed grin. 

“Maybe I should’ve been more obvious about kind of stalking you.”

She throws her head back with laughter, feeling a weight lift of her chest that this - what they just did - doesn’t change any of the good stuff. Sure, he just went down on her and made her come harder than she can ever really remember coming before, but he’s still the same old Bellamy. He’s still a dork and he still makes her laugh.

He’s still grinning goofily when her laughter bubbles down, but it slips a little as she starts worrying her lip. It's not that she'd not happy, because of course she is - she's ecstatic, actually. She knows that he'll be the same old Bell that he always was, that the only thing that will really change is how affectionate they are to each other (plus sex). But she feels a little silly, because she's wanted this for so long that it's almost pathetic and she doesn't want him to freak out because of it. 

He brings a hand to cup her face, thumb moving along her bottom lip to free it from her teeth.

“Hey,” he says softly, moving his thumb up to stroke her cheek. “Where'd you go? Are you okay?”

She nods, bringing the hand at his shoulder up to his face. She pulls him down for a soft kiss. 

“Yeah,” she whispers against his lips. “I’ve just wanted this - wanted _you_ \- for a really long time. I’m a little in shock.”

He smiles, moving from above her to the side and propping himself up to look at her. She turns onto her side as well, mirroring his position so they can look at each other. 

“I hope you’re at least in good shock,” he tells her, stroking her side up and down soothingly. 

“I am,” she quickly responds. “I’m in great shock, Bell. Really.”

He nods, leans forward to press a kiss onto her shoulder before asking “How long?”

Clarke sighs, averting her gaze as she responds “Since sophomore year.”

“That was only last year.” She can hear the confusion in his voice.

“Of high school,” she continues, hiding her face in embarrassment.

“Hey,” he chuckles lightly, pulling her hand away so she can meet his bright eyes. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

“Why? This is embarrassing.”

“But it’s just me, Clarke,” he smiles at her so genuinely. “You don’t have to be embarrassed with me.” 

She nods, feeling her anxiety leave her as she finds comfort in his words. She doesn't have to be embarrassed with him because he's Bellamy and he loves her.

“What about you?”

He sighs, hand carding through his hair before it comes back to rest at her waist. “I don’t know, honestly. I’ve liked you forever, even when you were a little brat,” Clarke grins at that, “but I think it was after you started college. It was like you weren’t just my younger sister’s friend anymore. You were my friend as well, and-” he shrugs, “-I don’t know, I guess it just grew as we hung out more by ourselves.”

Clarke nods, the smile still strong on her face. “When did you realise you were…” she trails off.

He chuckles, shaking his head and looking a little rueful. “It was when I uh - got a notification about you helping O with her grant applications. She’d been mentioning it and I’d been meaning to help her out but I was just so busy. I found out that you were helping her get it in on time and I just...realised I guess.”

She strokes his chest, eyes following her index finger as it moves across the freckles smattered on it, and smiles - a small one - just for herself.

“You told me I was your best friend that day.”

“I know,” he chuckles.

“You could’ve just said _‘Princess’_ ,” she imitates his deep voice, “ _‘You’re amazing and I’m in love with you.’_ Would’ve saved us a lot of time.”

He laughs at the botched attempt of his voice, the sound reverberating around the room, and it’s probably the best thing she’s ever head. 

“I love you.” Except maybe that.

She stops connecting the freckles on his chest and smiles up to him, feeling so incredibly _fond_ for the wonderful boy in front of her. 

“I love you, too. Now let’s have sex.”

He laughs again, throwing his head back, and she pushes him down onto the bed in his vulnerable state. She smiles gleefully, smugly, as his laughter stops abruptly when she straddles him, his hands automatically finding her waist. 

“Keep the stockings on,” she echoes his words with a wink, hoping her voice is smooth and seductive (and thinking she succeeds with his darkened eyes). She trails her fingers up from his navel, all the way to his chest and leans forward to capture his lips.

She grinds down on him, eliciting a moan that allows her to deepen the kiss. She likes being in charge, and he seems to as well as she continues to tease his hard, twitching cock. She moves his hands from her waist up to her back, and he seems to get her hint as he quickly undoes the clasps of her bra. 

She breaks the kiss with a bite of his bottom lip before sitting up straight. She pulls the undone bra off slowly, relishing the way his eyes take her in lustfully, until her breasts are free.

“Holy fuck, Clarke,” he breathes, groaning again she grinds once more. “You’ll be the death of me, princess.”

“I’m hoping so,” she smirks, leaning down again so her breasts skim his chest, kissing a line down his jaw and to his throat.

She shivers when his hands move up her sides to palm her breasts, tweaking both her nipples simultaneously in a way that makes her body clench.

She moves down his body, peppering kisses down his sternum and abs, pulling his underwear off as she goes. His erection, finally free from its constraints, springs up, and Clarke subconsciously licks her lips at the sight of him hard and ready for her. 

She finally makes her way to the foot of the bed, and watches his heated eyes as they follow the movements of her hands, wandering slowly down her sides until they reach the band of her underwear. She tugs them down slowly, hears the hitch in his breath when the flimsy material falls down her legs. 

She moves back to the bed, crawling a few steps so she’s at the level of his cock. He watches her with hooded eyes as she wraps a hand around it, gives it a few experimental tugs. He groans when her thumb brushes the head, hips jerking up reflexively. She tuts at him teasingly, enjoying how he is already falling apart at her hands. 

She continues to stroke his length for a while longer, until he rasps out a “Clarke,” and she decides she’s teased him enough. Almost. With one last stoke of the head, she gathers some of his pre-cum with her thumb, before bringing it to her mouth to suck. His eyes flutter shut, and she grins in an almost feral way as she stalks towards him. 

Her mouth descends to his, but she cuts the kiss short, pulling back quickly as he chases her lips. 

“Condom?” She whispers into his ear. 

“Bedside table.”

She kisses him once, twice, on the lips before leaning over on the bed and retrieving the little packet. She makes quick work of it, rolling it onto his impressive length before she’s kneeling above it.

Lining herself up with one hand, Bellamy’s going to her waist, she lowers herself onto him slowly. They both let out satisfied moans once he's bottomed out, and Clarke can already feel her arousal begin to build with the feel of him stretching her. 

She rolls her hips a few times, hands moving to his chest for support, and watches Bellamy with hooded eyes before lifting herself up, and slowly down again. She starts slowly, wanting this to last, and Bellamy doesn’t seem to mind letting her set the pace. He’s watching as he disappears into her, his eyes darkened incredibly as his hands grip her tighter. 

She leans forward, the sudden need for his mouth on hers great, and kisses him deeply as she moves on top of him, as he meets her with every thrust. 

The pace quickens soon enough, and Clarke’s panting heavily by the time they break away. His hand moves to her clit, and starts working her still sensitive bud lightly as they continue to move together. 

“Play with my tits,” she breathes out, and he growls as he brings the hand on her thigh to her breasts. 

He pulls her nipple lightly, and it’s almost too much - all the stimulation she’s receiving. She moans heatedly, digging her fingernails into his shoulders, trying to relieve a little bit of the tension her body's feeling. He grunts in response, his eyes going impossibly darker, filled with so much hunger and so much lust, and they speed up once more. 

Clarke meets him with every thrust, bringing her hands from his shoulders to find his own, tangling them together. She doesn’t mind the loss of stimulation to her breasts or her clit, because right now she just needs to feel him against her. She moves their hands, still joined, to the sides of his head, meeting him for an almost tender kiss in comparison to everything else.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers into her ear, and she loses what little ounce of the control she has left.

“I want you on top of me,” she responds, and in an instant he has them flipped over.

She likes being on top, yeah, but she really wants to feel the weight of him on top her. She wants to feel him everywhere, and she does. He keeps once hand in hers at the side of her head, stroking her knuckles with his thumb, while the other moves down her side to clench her hip. He crowds her entire body as her legs wind around his waist, her ass moving off the bed with each thrust as she watches him move into her over and over again. It makes her arousal build even more.

He trails kisses down her jaw and she grips his shoulders hard enough she’d be worried she was hurting him if it weren’t for the satisfied groan it elicits. 

“Bell,” she breathes. “I’m so cl-ose.”

He kisses her then, moving the hand rubbing her hip back to her clit to continue his ministrations. He thrusts harder, faster, trying to get her to finish before he falls apart. 

“So gorgeous,” he mumbles against her lips. “I love you.”

And with one final thrust her breath hitches and her orgasm floods her, her cunt clenching with the sudden release. She’s says his name like a prayer, over and over, just as she did before, and he comes a few thrusts later.  Her name falls from his lips after a guttural groan before slumping on top of her. She feels relaxed - more than she think she’s ever felt before - and marvels at the feeling of him on top of her still, of him inside of her. 

He pulls out and attempts to roll over, but she clenches her arms around his back to keep him close, pulling a breathless chuckle from Bellamy. He snakes a hand around her waist and rolls them both over, and she lays on his chest as they catch their breath, cheek against it as she listens to his heart slow down.

When she looks up, she finds him staring at her, the fondest of smiles tugging at his lips as he brings a hand up to card through her hair. She presses a kiss to him sternum and one to his lips before finally moving off him. Her legs feel like jelly as she steps off the bed, walking slowly to the bathroom with a little sway of her hips. 

She returns to find Bellamy all cleaned up, watching her as she walks back to him with his hands behind his head. She bites back a smile, pausing before she gets to the bed to pull off the stockings, making note to definitely wear that outfit again, before she climbs onto it.

His arms come around her, pulling her firmly into his side and making her feel impossibly safe. She strokes his chest while he continues to play with her hair, and they lay in happy silence for a while. 

“I’m really glad you offered me your iTouch all those years ago,” Bellamy says eventually, voice still a little rough, pulling a sleepy laugh from Clarke. 

She kisses him on the chest before bringing a hand up to trace his jaw.

“So am I,” she grins. 

“Love you, princess,” he sighs after a few minutes, voice thick with sleep already.

“Love you too, Bell,” she replies, pressing once last kiss onto his glistening skin before they fall asleep in each other’s arms. 

**

Clarke doubles over with laughter five years later, when _Propose to Clarke_ pops up on her phone and she turns around only to see Bellamy on one knee, holding a navy velvet box opened to a diamond ring. She finds herself pretty happy that her calculus teacher was sick that day all those years ago. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed? Sorry for the smut and the sappy ending I am trash.


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